


send me an angel (so i can be a human again)

by suethor



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Minor Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle - Freeform, Minor Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Romance, Slow Burn, Steve Trevor Miraculously Survives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suethor/pseuds/suethor
Summary: Diana's not sure what to do with the weight of her history, especially when it comes back to her in the form of an amnesiac Steve Trevor, who is apparently, not as dead as she thought he was.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Human Again" by Carl Louis. Also, this is short because it's a prologue. Future chapters should be around 5000-10000 words each.

“Someone has to leave first.  This is a very old story.    
**_There is no other ending to this story_ ** _.”_

-Richard Siken

* * *

 

Prologue // To Eternity

Diana’s not sure what to do with the weight of her history, so she shoulders it and carries it with her.  A constant reminder of what her duty is and what the world needs her to be.  It keeps her fighting and it reminds her of the good in man, but sometimes--

Sometimes it aches so badly that it brings her to tears.  

She keeps the photograph Bruce sent her and she wears Steve’s watch around her wrist.  At times, she finds herself staring at it, watching the seconds tick by cruelly, an inescapable fate that doesn’t apply to her.  Time withers everyone around her, but leaves her to survive.  Instead, the one who destroys her is grief.  

Diana’s watched Steve die, watched Antiope die, Etta and Charlie and Sameer.  She’s attended their funerals under different guises every time, mourning the people who she came into the world to protect, who have now left her alone.  

If she doesn’t understand a human custom--and, well, there’s not much she doesn’t understand anymore, but still--Diana can’t call them on the phone.  She can’t reach out to any of the people who understand.  All she has now is, well, all she has is Bruce, and he’s antisocial for the most part so it’s not as if _he_ understands much about human customs.  

(She’s seen him floundering through social interactions at parties.  At first, she just thought that was how rich people behaved, before realizing that it’s only Bruce.)  

She tries to be a hero, through the second World War and the rest that follow.  Violence persists, she discovers, even though Ares is gone.  Sometimes, man is not all good.  

But man can learn.  She’s realized that.  Humans learn from their mistakes, and they try to do better.  They’re not perfect, but they’re working on it.  

Diana’s not sure what to do with the weight of her history.  Especially not when it comes back to her in the form of a dead man walking.  Especially not when she finds herself staring Steve Trevor straight in the face, except, he doesn’t seem to remember a thing about any of the history he took place in.  Doesn’t seem to remember a single thing about her.  


	2. Sister, Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Quinn (comealongpixie) for their beta-ing and fixing my characterization of Bruce! (And also for making me cry over Jason Todd.)

“Spring returns with its terrible resurrection.”    
-Traci Brimhall

One // Sister, Dear

Diana remembers Clark’s death a few months back.  She remembers the awful, sinking feeling of watching someone be killed.  She remembers bearing the brunt of his weight so that Lois could collapse next to him, unable to stand with the weight of her grief.  Mostly, though, she remembers Lois’s speech at his funeral, as she wore a wedding ring he’d never had the chance to give her.  About what he said to her before he sacrificed himself.   _ You are my world.  I love you.   _

She closes her eyes, remembers Steve’s words before he did the same thing.   _ I wish we had more time.  I love you.   _

There’s a guilt that tugs at her, almost, for not being able to hear him.  She knows it isn’t her fault, and at the same time she wonders if he blamed her.  If, as he was walking away towards the plane, he thought she didn’t love him back.  

_ Of course she did.   _ Of course she did.  

How could he not have known?  

But then again--

Nothing is certain in a war.  

* * *

If it weren’t for a thief, they wouldn’t have found him.  

Bruce has been chasing the same criminal for weeks, but she keeps evading him.  Diana half-listens as he vents every time she gets away--she’s fast, she has claws for some reason, and he swears he can hear her laughing as she skips away with her stolen goods.  

On this particular night, it’s diamonds from the Gotham City Tiffany’s.   _ Five million dollars worth.   _ Nobody was killed, but she managed to scratch up one of the security guards pretty badly.  

“...who the hell even has claws?”  Bruce says, finally pausing his rant to take a breath.

“Says the man who dresses up as a bat every night,” Diana interrupts.  Bruce huffs, scowling pointedly at her, and she cocks her head to the side and smiles sweetly.  “So,” she adds.  “What’s the plan?”  

Bruce raises an eyebrow.  

“What’s the  _ plan? _ ” Diana repeats.  

Across from her, her comrade scowls.  “I heard what you said.  I just didn’t think you’d want to come with me.”  

“My job is to protect humanity,” she replies simply.  Bruce perks up slightly, a physical change that’s barely there, and she can see a flash of interest in his eyes.  It’s as if he’s hoping he’ll maybe figure out what her story is.  But Diana knows better than to show her hand like that.  Plus, she’s not sure if Bruce is... _ ready _ to hear her use phrases like  _ I’m the god killer  _ or  _ my father is Zeus  _ or  _ I come from an island of women who are centuries old.   _

He does know some - that she can never see her mother again, for example.  When she’d told him that one night at a dingy Gotham bar, he’d nodded gruffly, running a calloused thumb around the rim of his glass.  

“I can’t, either,” he confided.  

And although they were separated from their parents by different forces - time for him, space for her - they still managed to swallow down their alcohol, knowing exactly what the other was thinking.  

Now, though, she’s not going to tell him a thing.  First they need to catch a thief.  

“Well,” he says, after a moment of ruminating, “I think I’ve got an idea.”  

* * *

Bruce’s idea, as it turns out, is terrible.  

He’s tracked down a pattern of where the thief--he’s taken to calling her Catwoman _ ,  _ a moniker she’s acquired from the  _ Gotham Gazette _ \--has been striking, and predicted what she’s going to rob next.  And he wants to rob it first.  

Diana literally carries around a lasso that makes people honest.  She doesn’t intend to have any part in robbing a museum.  

But Bruce tries to convince her anyways.  “We’ll give it all back when we’ve caught her,” he insists.  “This is how justice needs to be, sometimes.”  Diana is reminded that the world isn’t as black and white as she thought it was.  Sometimes, something bad must be done to prevent something worse.  She trusts the contents of the safe in their hands more than in the hands of a greedy thief.  

“Fine,” she says.  “But I can’t burgle in my armor.”  

* * *

Luckily for her, Bruce has a women’s stealth suit on hand.  Why, she’s not sure, but there’s an unspoken agreement between them - they don’t ask questions.  Just wait for answers.  

Considering that Diana has had 5000 years to learn and Bruce is a vigilante whose identity has never been revealed, getting  _ into  _ the museum vault isn’t difficult.  

The trouble happens once it’s unlocked.  

More specifically, it’s not just filled with paintings and statues.  Inside is a young woman--twenty or so--with dark skin like earth who’s wearing a pink dress that flows to the floor in a way that isn’t exactly...human.  

Also, the entire space is covered in flowers.  

“Diana!” she greets, breaking out into a smile.  “It’s nice to finally meet you.”  

What the  _ hell.   _

The woman’s accent is almost identical to Diana’s, and her brain is racing trying to fit the pieces together as she draws her sword.  How does this woman know her?  Where did the flowers come from?  Who is she?  

“Who are you?” Bruce growls.  

The woman is unfazed by his blunt demand.  She just lifts an arm and gestures gracefully towards Diana.  “I’m her sister,” she says.  

Bruce, though dressed in the batsuit, manages to look surprised, and mildly intrigued.  “Her sister?”  

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re my sister?” Diana asks warily.  That doesn’t really let her know if this girl is good news or not, since Zeus carried on affairs with practically every woman he could.  The woman’s hair is twisted into small coils, and they bounce as she nods.  “What’s your name?” she asks, sword still drawn.  

“Persephone.”  A beat passes, Bruce turning to Diana expectantly.  Diana just shrugs, unsure what to say.  “I’ve come to give you a gift.”  

Bruce, who Diana knows to have very little faith in everyone, squares up when he hears that.  She can’t exactly fault him, since an arsonist gave him that line last month before trying to light him on fire.  

“What is it?” she demands, dropping the sword to her side and stepping forward.  

Persephone lifts a finger.  “One moment,” she says, then skitters behind the stack of crates in the vault that they’re actually here to get.  Drawing one of his batarangs, Bruce sends Diana a look.  She raises her sword, but she’s not exactly sure if Persephone is a threat.  

Well, she probably  _ could be _ but it doesn’t seem like she’s choosing to be so.  The woman is so chipper and upbeat, and it feels genuine, not like a trap.  

“You see,” Persephone calls back, “when you killed Ares back in 1918, you gave the gods an opportunity to become reborn.”  

Bruce stares at Diana, mouthing,  _ What the fuck does that mean?  _

She ignores him.  

“Reborn?  How is that possible?  Nobody can come back from the dead.”  

From behind the crates, Persephone laughs.  It’s a pleasant sound, like a bell.  “Gods can defy any rules they want.  They’re the ones who made them.”  She grunts, and it sounds like she’s lifting something up.  “Besides,” she adds, “my husband is the God of Death, and he got kind of tired of his family.  With Ares gone, he was able to figure out how to send them back.”  

“I see,” Diana says, and even though she’s not looking at him, she knows that Bruce looks like he’s going to lose his mind.  “Are you a god?”  

“I’m as much a god as you are.”  

Finally, Persephone emerges from behind the pile of crates, dragging another, gigantic box with her.  It’s about the size of a casket, and even though it must weigh a few hundred pounds, the woman isn’t breaking a sweat.  She sets it down in front of Diana, and as she pulls her hand away a flower blooms on the side of the box.  It spouts a vine, and that vine sprouts flowers that sprout more vines, until the top of the box is covered in plumerias.  

“Anyways,” Persephone continues, as Diana furrows her brow in confusion.  “This is a thank you for giving us a second chance.  Things are different now--we mostly refrain from interfering in human affairs, just make sure to run the universe smoothly.  But it’s better than death and nothingness.”  

“What is it?” Diana asks, nudging it with her foot.  

“Your gift from the Pantheon.  The other half of your heart.  The one you lost when you saved us--saved  _ all  _ of us.”  

A thousand thoughts race through Diana’s head.  What does  _ the other half of her heart  _ mean?  How can--how can the gods come back?  Nothing matches up.  If the rules don’t apply, then what’s the point of having them?  

“Go ahead,” Persephone says.  She gestures towards the box.  “Open it.”  

“Diana…” Bruce warns her.  “Be careful.” 

“It’s not a trap,” Persephone assures him.  

“Sounds like something that would come out of the mouth of someone laying a trap,” Bruce mutters.  “Do you want me to do it?”  

Diana shoots him a look.  “ _ Please _ .  Of the two of us, which is more equipped to handle a trap laid by a god?”  

Bruce doesn’t argue.  

Slowly, Diana kneels onto the floor.  She traces the hatch on the box for a good moment before she lays her fingers on it to open the box.  With the top ajar, and nothing terrible happening, Diana decides to just swing the whole thing open.  

She presses the heels of her palms onto the top, and pushes it over.  It hits the floor with a clang.  

But Diana’s not focused on that.  

Instead, she’s focused on--

_ Steve.   _

As if he was carved from marble, lying before her, eyes shut, dressed in his gear, looking just as alive as the last time she saw his face on the runway.  Diana claps a hand over her mouth, tears springing to her eyes before she can tell what’s happening.  Persephone disappears and re-materializes next to her, placing a hand on her back and leaving Bruce muttering to himself in confusion.  

“It’s okay, sister,” she says.  From her fingers blooms a sense of safety and comfort that slowly drags its way towards Diana’s heart.  “We found the atoms that made him whole and put them together again.  His spirit was in Hades, but--”  She cuts herself off abruptly.  

Diana drags her eyes away from the body--from  _ Steve _ \--and towards Persephone, waiting for bad news.  Whether or not this is... _ good news _ she’s still trying to decide.  What if he’s not the same?  A clone sharing his face would not make her happy.  

“Resurrection,” Persephone explains, “is an extremely difficult task.” 

“I would expect that,” says Diana.  

“Even for a god.”  Persephone takes a deep breath.  “What I mean to say is, for a man, it is  _ possible  _ but it is difficult to get through it in one piece.  Steve Trevor is alive and himself, very much so, but something got lost as we pulled him from the River of Souls.”  She gathers up Diana’s hands in her own, and looks down at them, as if ashamed.  “His memories of you.  They’re gone.”  

“Of me?”  Diana’s brow furrows.  She looks at Steve, so  _ real  _ and alive, his chest rising and falling though he’s unconscious.  “Why only those, specifically?”  

“They were the biggest part of his soul,” Persephone explains.  “The barrier between life and death is a painful one to cross, and he wanted so badly to come back to you.”  She smiles gently.  “I have good news, though.  It’s possible to bring the memories back.  But we aren’t sure how.  They didn’t remain on our side of the barrier, which means that they’re scattered somewhere in the land of the living.  You  _ can  _ bring them back.  We have faith that you’ll be able to figure it out.”  

Diana stares down at him.  She doesn’t want to have him, just to lose him again.  The world hasn’t gotten any safer in the past century, and even if he does grow old, then...he’s growing old.  Like she won’t ever be able to.  

“He’ll die again,” she tells Persephone.  

“He can be killed, yes,” Persephone replies.  “But do you really think that the Queen of the Dead would deliver you a gift only to rip it away from you a few years later?  He’s been infused with the same vitality as an extremely unimpressive demigod.  He’s no stronger, but the telomeres in his cells are designed not to function like the ones in a mortal.  He’s immune to the effects of time.”  

Her eyes are overflowing with tears.  She can’t believe this is happening.  After a hundred years of mourning, he’s been brought back to her.  Diana glances down at her wrist, where the watch is usually set.  That endless ticking will become irrelevant.  

“When will he wake up?” she asks.  

“We, um.  We dosed him with some mild tranquilizers for the ride over.  The two of us took the place of two very expensive Renaissance statues that we left back in Greece, and I couldn’t have him ruining our cover.”  

“I see,” Diana remarks.  “I don’t know how to thank you.”  

“You are the one we owe gratitude to,” Persephone insists.  She pulls Diana into a hug.  “I have to go back to work now.  I’ve got my own kingdom to protect.”  She smiles.  “I’ll be looking after you, sister.”  

And then she’s gone.

Not for the first time, she finds herself kneeling over an unconscious Steve Trevor, lifting a hesitant hand up to trace his cheekbone.  “Hello, my love,” she whispers.  

Bruce clears his throat, surprising her.  Diana turns to him and raises an eyebrow.  

“I have some questions,” he tells her.  

Right.  Now that he’s seen a goddess, she can’t really hide it from him anymore.  

“But we should get out of here,” Bruce says finally.  “You can explain when we get back to the cave.”  

Diana nods.  “What about your plan?”  

Bruce shrugs.  “It was a bad plan.  Plus, I reprogrammed all the security, so she won’t be able to get anything here tonight.  You’re gonna help me find her again later, though.”  

Swiping away at her tears with the back of her hand, Diana reaches over to close the top of the box again.  She fastens the hatch and turns to Bruce.  “Are the cameras still disabled?”  

He nods gruffly.  “We’re covered for the next four minutes and thirty-one seconds.”  

“Well then,” she says, leaning over to lift up one side of the box.  “Let’s go.”  

* * *

Bruce wordlessly offers a guest room up for Steve, and the one directly adjacent to Diana.  Once she’s changed back into her clothes, they find themselves sitting in silence at the bar.  

Finally, he clears his throat.  “You’re gonna need to explain this,” he says, “because I heard that lady talking about gods.  Also, how is she your sister?”  

“Half-sister,” Diana corrects.  

“Because that makes  _ all  _ the difference.”  

“I’ve never even met her until today.  I didn’t know she existed.  We share a father.”  

Bruce waits expectantly.  

“Our father is Zeus.”  

He frowns.  “As in the  _ Greek god?” _

“You said it yourself,” she tells him.  “You heard Persephone talking about gods.”  

He takes a sip of his whiskey, then sets the glass down firmly.  “Gods.  This is fantastic.”  Then, under his breath, he adds, “ _ People  _ already cause enough trouble, we don’t need to get the whole Mount Olympus gang to get involved, but sure.  Why not.  Gods.”  

Diana nods slowly.  He’s taking it better than she expected.  

“Are you going to tell me where you came from, now?” Bruce asks.  

She shrugs.  “Themyscira.”  

“You know I don’t know what that means.”  

“I wasn’t finished.  Themyscira is an island off the coast of Greece, shrouded in fog to conceal it from the rest of the world.  It is inhabited by Amazons, including their queen, Hippolyta, who is also my mother.  They are all centuries-old warriors who are stronger than anything you’ve ever seen.”  

Bruce blinks at her.  Then he turns away and downs the rest of his whiskey.  “I see,” he says, eyes glued to the wall in front of him.  “Why don’t you go back?”  

She looks down at her hands, resists the urge to pick at a hangnail on her thumb.  “I’m afraid that if I go back...if I look my mother in the eyes again, I won’t be able to leave.”  Diana blows out a breath.  “Before I left, she called me her greatest sorrow.  I know it is my job to protect mankind, but I had to hurt my mother to do it.  I can’t hurt her again.”  

There’s a pregnant pause, and then Bruce gestures slightly towards the direction of the guest room where Steve is currently lying.  “What’s the deal with him?”  

“The deal with him is that he washed up on the shores of Themyscira in 1918.”  Diana sips her whiskey and pretends that it’s giving her courage, though she knows it has no effect on her.  “He was a British spy working in the German army, and he crashed in the ocean.  I saved his life, but the Germans followed him.  They--”  

She looks away so that he can’t see her eyes.  

“They killed my aunt.  My trainer.  Antiope.  She’s the woman who made me who I am, and then she died saving me.  I helped him escape the island and fought with him in the war, but--I thought it would be simpler to stop.”  When Diana remembers how innocent she’d been, she feels a sense of homesickness.  She can’t unlearn the horrors she’s had to witness.  “I didn’t realize then that man isn’t all good.”  She pinches her eyes shut.  “He sacrificed himself to save the lives of twenty-five million people.  Everyone else I loved grew.  I didn’t.  They’re all dead, now.”  

She hates how syrupy her voice sounds, as she focuses all her willpower into keeping her tears from falling.   _ Steve is back _ , she reminds herself.  

But what if it isn’t the same as before?  All their time together is suddenly gone, and she’s not the same person she was then.  She can’t...make him the same.  

And how does she find his memories?  Everything for her was so vivid.  She can feel his beard scratching her chin when they first kissed.  The warmth of his hand pressed against his back as they swayed back and forth in Veld.  The first time he opened his eyes on Themyscira, blue as the sea she’d saved him from.  

It stings to know that she can recount every interaction they’ve had, simply from replaying them over and over before she slept, while he won’t even know who she is.  

She takes a deep breath.  He hasn’t even woken up, yet.  She can’t know what he’ll be like.  Not yet, at least.  

Bruce has been silent, and she doesn’t feel as if she might start crying anymore, so she turns to him.  “Now I’ve told you my story.  You tell me yours.”  

“You know my story,” he objects.  

“I know your story according to the press.  Tell me your story according to you.” 

He frowns, reaching over for the bottle and pouring another glass of whiskey.  “My parents were killed when I was ten.  I watched them die.  I hate guns, now.”  

Pause.  Drink.  

“I always wanted to...I don’t know.  Stop other kids from having to go through what I went through.  I couldn’t sleep for years after it happened.  I stopped talking for a few months.  I didn’t know what to do.  Usually when bad things happen, kids can go to their parents.  I didn’t have anyone except Alfred, but still.  It was awful.  I didn’t want anyone else to go through that.”  

Another pause.  Another drink.  

Diana doesn’t know what to say, so she listens.  

“I used to have a partner - a son - but he was killed, so now I work alone.”  

That feels like the end of the story, if the way he finishes the contents of his glass is any indication.  A beat passes.  

“You’re not alone, you know,” she tells him.  “Not anymore, at least.”  

“I guess not,” he says, looking over at her.  He cracks the slightest of smiles, just barely there.  

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” she tells him.  “And your son.”  

“I’m sorry you lost your friends,” Bruce says.  “But you know, you aren’t alone anymore either.”  

That’s the most welcoming thing he’s ever said to her.  Diana raises her glass, and Bruce does the same, clinking his against hers.  

“The best we can do is make the world better for other people,” she tells him.  “Our past will always follow us, but we can decide how much it changes us.”  

“Your past seems to be following you very closely.”  

“Yeah,” says Diana.  “I’m still deciding if that’s a blessing or a curse.”  

* * *

_ The plane.  The notebook.  The plane.  The notebook.   _

Steve Trevor’s eyes flip open, and he panics.  

Have they captured him?  Did they shoot the plane down and take him prisoner?  

_ The notebook.   _

He sits up and frantically pats the pockets of his coat, to no avail.  Dr. Maru’s notes are gone.  He must’ve been captured, only--

Only, prisoners of war don’t sleep in beds that are this comfortable.  

Which means he must be dead.  

How the  _ hell  _ did he make it to heaven?  

Steve throws the blankets off his lap and fumbles around the lamp next to him.  It’s strange, with a silver base and a bulb attached.  He eventually finds the button on the side, and it lights up, illuminating the entire room.  

There’s a gigantic black rectangle on the wall across from the bed.  A monitor?  Is it watching him?  He raises an eyebrow, still not sure what’s happening.  Isn’t the afterlife supposed to be full of angels?  Or demons?  Or  _ something  _ to explain what the hell is going on?  

He reaches for his waistband, but the gun is gone.  Steve frowns, grabbing the lamp off the table to use as a weapon, if needed, and heads towards the door. He wraps the cord around it’s base, and keeps the silver in a white-knuckled grip.   

Slowly, he pulls the door open, and it’s surprisingly soundless.  

Maybe he’s been abducted by aliens.  None of this furniture looks like it's come from earth.  

Slipping out into the hallway, Steve peers down each direction.  To the left is more doors, engulfed in shadows, but there’s a faint light coming from the right.  

Considering he has no idea where he is, he’d like to be able to see where he’s going, so Steve turns right.  

“I’m still deciding if that’s a blessing or a curse,” a voice says.  He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to place, it, because he  _ knows that voice.   _ He swears he’s heard it before.  But he can’t put a name to it, or a face, or a memory.

Suddenly, a lanky man steps in front of him.  His hair is grey, he’s wearing glasses, and he’s raising a curious eyebrow.  “Master Wayne?” he says, and Steve panics.  He shoves the man to the side and dashes past him, only to run straight into another person.  

This one is dressed all in black, features pent up into a scowl.  He looks strong, and Steve feels vaguely frightened.  He raises the arm with the lamp in it and winds up to throw, but then there’s a woman grabbing his wrist, and his eyelids are slipping shut once again, and he’s hearing someone speaking.  “ _ You’re a man.”   _ Their voice echoes, faded.  It sounds like it’s underwater.  

He tries to reach out for the memory, but his fingertips brush it and end up pushing it further away.  

_ You’re a man.   _

“Steve,” the woman says.  “Steve, you’re alright.”  

Steve realizes then that he’s definitely dead.  

Because the woman in front of him, with her brown curls and her wide eyes--she’s definitely an angel.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!! The prologue for this story got so many reviews oh my goodness, so here's the next chapter! Steve is introduced, Diana and Bruce bond, and you figure out what the aftermath of Diana's actions in the movie were on the present day. 
> 
> The next chapter will feature some Steve/Diana bonding, as well as the return of Catwoman. Leave a review letting me know what you thought of this chapter, and what you hope to see in the future <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm testing this idea out since I don't usually write about canon couples, but I saw Wonder Woman yesterday and it shattered my heart into 8 million pieces and I'm trying to cope. This fic is loosely inspired by The Winter Soldier, but it's not really a TWS au, I guess? If you like this, leave a review so I know if I should continue with it or not.


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